I'll eat up all your crackers and your licorice

100 Words about Baseball

Why I Love Baseball

There is no clock
90 feet between bases is genius
There are secret signs
Hanging curveballs are sexy
Numbers are magic: 755, 56, 7, 61, 1.12
Tinker to Evers to Chance
Ivy at Wrigley
The Green Monster
The suicide squeeze
Cracker Jack
Walt Whitman liked it
Jackie Robinson and Pee-Wee Reese
It just feels American
The seventh-inning stretch
Superstition
Guys in tight pants
Bull Durham
Centerfield
There’s no crying in baseball
Cooperstown
A great play at the plate
Chatter
Pepper
High socks
Tradition
Spring training
Keeping score
The rubber game
The infield fly rule
162 chances

Become a Fan

Current Affairs

I still remember the early days, when the disease we now call AIDS was larger than life, in every news broadcast, and almost completely misunderstood. I was a very young teen at the time, still grappling with issues like my own sexuality and the sexuality of others (remember that in the early days, AIDS was all too often characterized as a "gay disease"). I remember the fear (can I get it from kissing? sharing a soda? a mosquito bite?). I remember the sense of utter hopelessness I felt whenever I thought of this disease that seemed to be so mysterious and unstoppable.

Almost 30 years later, the pool of public knowledge about AIDS and HIV is almost as deep and unfathomable as those early fears were. The numbers remain staggering:

In the face of such statistics, it can be easy to maintain that early helplessness or those same feelings of being powerless. With the pressures of life and the constant din of so many media sources telling us what we should care about, it can also be easy to forget that, despite the fact that it isn't in the news every day, AIDS kills almost 4 people every minute. (based on 2008 death rates) Feels immense, doesn't it? Unstoppable? I hope not.

Apparently I'm not the only person who believes that a lot of little actions can add up to great things and that we sometimes need an arbitrary marker as a reminder - it's beliefs like those that lead to days like today - World AIDS Day. Today we pay a little more attention to the breadth of this disease, the global implications of it, the cultural beliefs and behaviors which influence its spread, and the efforts underway to slow and stop it. We shine a light on the fact that this disease is still relevant and threatening, and even those of us who aren't vaccine researchers or powerful philanthropists can still do something to stop it. Here are just a few ways we can help in the course of this day:

Have a latte - Starbucks will donate 5 cents per handcrafted drink sold in the US and Canada today (5p in the UK, not sure about other countries)

Put on some lipstick - MAC sells a line of lipsticks and glosses called Viva Glam and not some percentage, but every cent of the retail price goes to the MAC Global AIDS Fund. The fund has raised $135 million to date to help women, men and children around the world. (And many of the shades are almost universally flattering, too.)

Pick up your holiday greeting cards. MAC sells greeting cards designed by children and Hallmark carries a line of Product (RED) cards as well. If you're going to get cards anyway, why not get some that give back?

Put some clothes on. Gap sells a great line of Product (RED) apparel for women and men. (They've sold products for kids in the past, but I don't see any on their website today.)

Always wondering "what's that song playing?" Then download the Shazam (RED) app for iPhone. The $2.99 app "listens" to whatever music is playing and identifies the song and artist and provides handy links that direct you to the iTunes store for preview and purchase, or to a Youtube video.

Or, go straight to the source and make a donation. Here are a couple of organizations that would be glad to take your money:

Joe and I are watching the inauguration coverage on DVR and we got to the "backstage" walk-throughs by the former vice presidents. Joe was surprised to see Dan Quayle (he just doesn't enter the average person's consciousness too often, I suppose) and grumbled a bit about his presence. The conversation went a little something like this (a lot like this as it's about verbatim):

Me: Joe, the man was Vice President of the United States. He deserves to be there.Joe: You know what John Nance Garner said the Vice Presidency is worth, right?Me: Yeah, I know, "It isn't worth a warm bucket of piss." Joe: RightMe: Well, guess what? The value of the office just went up because today it's also good for a prime seat for the most significant inauguration of this country's history.*"

Does that mean the bucket has gone from warm to piping hot? Now there's an upgrade.

*I suppose you could make an argument for Washington or Lincoln, but in terms of how far we've come, I stand behind my hyperbole.

Regardless of political affiliation or ideology, there is no denying the historical significance of this day. It's a day I always thought was possible yet never believed I would see in my lifetime. A day that draws a line forever between a past where millions of children were told "you can be whatever you want" and a future when they really can be. A day when the still present divide of race is narrowed immeasurably.

I think about the consistent rallying cry of the Obama campaign: Yes We Can. Simple, powerful words.

Yes We Can...

...bring people together....give people hope....begin to heal some of the wounds of people who have been treated as "less than."...repair our standing in the eyes of the world....restore belief that our government represents the richness of diversity in our country, not simply the rich....begin the hard work of repairing our economy for the good of all, not simply the good of Wall Street.

I'm not wholly idealistic about this. I know that millions of people do not agree with me. I know many are unhappy with the result of this election in terms of political ideology and many are even upset that a white man is not taking that oath today. Today erases neither partisanship nor racism. But for today (and probably many days to come), I will celebrate. I am proud to be a liberal. I am proud to be a Democrat. I am proud to be an American. I will rejoice at the progress our nation has made. I will feel renewed hope that we can continue along that path.

It just so happened that my successful month of 100 Words participation
coincided with Hurricane Katrina. I had planned to write this post this
weekend and share the entries, but what I didn't count on was Gustav.

I was in Memphis, Tennessee that week doing some client work. We were staying at this funny Holiday Inn on the University of Memphis campus. UM has a school of resort management named after Holiday Inn founder Kemmons Wilson, and I believe the hotel itself serves as a kind of laboratory for students. That in and of itself makes it unique, but it's also an all-suite HI (we stayed there many times while working with this client - we called the rooms our apartments). And on one of the floors there was a Kemmons Wilson museum with all sorts of memorabilia and big quotes on the walls. Each room had not only a Bible and a phone book, but a Kemmons Wilson biography.

To be honest, I hadn't followed news of the storm very closely. It was a high-stakes event we were in town for and I was consumed by the preparation. But I will never forget the feeling of despair while watching the news, the way the hotel quickly filled with pacing refugees. Reading these entries now is sobering in that the immense scale of this disaster had yet to sink in. I remember one phone report by Jeanne Meserve, so tinged with emotion and horror that the sound of her voice moved me to tears as much as the scene she described.

I am not a traditionally religious person - there is no being I might pray to - but when I watch Gustav follow the Katrina-worn path, I'm doing something akin to prayer that the suffering will be as slight as possible.

29 August 2005

I am in a Memphis hotel, a place whose website notes that they allow pets. When I read this, I
simply thought it was unusual. Little did I know it would become noteworthy.
See, a hurricane has been pummeling the Gulf coast all day. A million people are
streaming north, some landing here, 350 miles inland at a business hotel with
an unusual but fortunate acceptance of animals. They pace with their dogs along
the hallways, worrying about the homes that might be gone, the precious objects
they couldn’t bring along, the neighbor whom they couldn’t convince to also
flee.

30 August 2005

This morning I knew things were bad, but I clung to naive
optimism. “Maybe they can recover by Mardi Gras,” I thought. What a triumphant
celebration that would be. As I had a chance to watch the news during session
breaks, I realized my utter folly. Levees breached. New Orleans under water. Even now, I can’t
comprehend the horror facing those trapped in that drowned bowl of a city. How
will they survive? How many are dead? From the bedroom of my suite I listened
to Jeanne Meserve describe the terrible scene, her cracking voice more powerful
than any picture.

Lest you all think I've forgotten how to type, I figured I'd blog the old-fashioned way for a change. Just a quick update on what's going on as that's about all I have mental bandwidth for at this moment.

I had a terrific work experience in Trinidad and I'm almost done with a piece about being in the minority and how that impacted me. I did post some pictures from the trip on my Flickr account, though.

After four days away, I came home Sunday before last and Joe and Alex left the next day to go to Pennsylvania. Joe's father is very ill and since Joe is in the down period before starting his new job, there's really no sense in him not spending as much time with his parents as possible. He was planning to drive home today, but those plans needed to change, so now I'm planning on going to get Alex either this afternoon or tomorrow. I miss them both, but Alex is really ready to be home and needs to start getting settled in to a school-like routine. I'd just give anything if Joe weren't having to go through this, though.

On Sunday my friend Chris came over and made brunch (among his many talents, he's an excellent cook and went to culinary school) and we just chilled on the couch and watched Katt Williams.

It's hard to believe that Alex is starting school next week. I said something about being on maternity leave 7 years ago and still being mad that someone took my inbox while I was out. A co-worker chastised me saying it hadn't been 7 years and was floored to realize that Alex is in fact turning 7 in 6 weeks. SEVEN!!! In the SECOND GRADE!!!

This weekend I broke out the TED 2008 DVD set and watched a few of the talks. It's such a shame that many of them are so edited for online posting. Ben Zander's talk is fully twice as long on the DVD as it is on the TED site. I understand why they do it, but the editing means web viewers miss the "beyond the fuck it" story.

If you can't tell, I am really enjoying video blogging and I can't say enough about how wonderful everyone's feedback and support has been. I'm pretty floored by the response, to be honest. I never expected to be getting comments from mostly strangers, or to have people SUBSCRIBING to my channel! But then again, I never expected to vlog in the first place. My videos can be found on my channel at YouTube. Do drop by and say hello and join in the fun by giving vlogging a whirl!

And rather than telling you what I thought about Hillary Clinton's speech last night at the Democratic National Convention, I'll just embed last night's vlog. Which is a little about the speech and a little about the poem it made me think of. (If you read enough poetry, everything reminds you of a poem. That is a good thing.)

The following letter ran in the Glens Falls Post Star, the paper for a town a bit north of where I live. Kirsten Gillibrand was elected to the US House of Representatives in 2006 in the district that borders mine and while I couldn't vote for her, I followed her campaign closely and was very happy to see her win. This letter absolutely turns my stomach.

The Glens Falls Post StarPublished: Thursday, December 20th, 2007

Editor:

Regarding a story that appeared in The Post-Star on Dec. 6: "Rep. Gillibrand announces she is pregnant."

First
of all, I must admit that I am a male chauvinist and that there are,
thankfully, differences between men and women. There are many
occupations suitable for women and their physical attributes. Carrying
a weapon while serving in the Armed Forces and firefighting are not
suitable lines of work for women to prove that they are physically
equal to men. How many male police officers feel comfortable with a 100
pound female backup?

And now, I have to add serving in the U.S. House and Senate as an occupation that may not be suitable for women.

Ms. Gillibrand's current pregnancy makes a
strong case for my opinion. Ms. Gillibrand was elected to serve her
constituency, and while she is away from her elected office she cannot
perform those duties. The taxpayers who were duped into voting for her
will have to pay for her medical benefits. Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Taxpayer,
Ms. Gillibrand receives excellent health benefits, courtesy of her
constituents. We will be without representation in Congress for a time
leading up to and following the child's birth. There will be times when
she and the new baby will visit doctors. You can add those days to the
total that she will not be serving her constituents.

The current
base salary (2006) for members of the House and Senate is $165,200 per
year. I wonder if Ms. Gillibrand will do the right thing and reimburse
the U.S. Treasury in the amount of $452.60, her daily salary, for each
day that she is unable to perform her elected duties. For some reason,
I doubt it.

I figured this was going to happen, but hearing that it's official is...wow. Say what you will, but this is MY senator, and she has done a fantastic job. In any case, this is going to be a very interesting campaign season.

After I heard It's a Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fallplayed softly by an
accordion quartetthrough the ceiling speakers at the Springdale Shopping
Mall,I understood there's nothingwe can't pluck the stinger
from,

nothing we can't turn into a soft drink flavor or a
t-shirt.Even serenity can become something horribleif you make a
commercial about itusing smiling, white-haired people

quoting Thoreau
to sell retirement homesin the Everglades, where the swamp has
beendrained and bulldozed into a nineteen-hole golf coursewith
electrified alligator barriers.

You can't keep beating yourself up,
BillyI heard the therapist say on televisionto the teenage
murderer,About all those people you killed—You just have to be the
best person you can be,

one day at a time—

and everybody in
the audience claps and weeps a little, because the level of deep feeling has
been touched,and they want to believe that the power of Forgiveness is
greaterthan the power of Consequence, or History.

Dear
Abby:My father is a businessman who travels.Each time he returns from
one of his trips,his shoes and trousersare covered with blood-but he
never forgets to bring me a nice present;Should I say
something? Signed,
America.

I used to think I was not part of this,that I could
mind my own business and get along,but that was just another songthat
had been taught to me since birth—whose words I was humming under my
breath,as I was walking through the Springdale Mall.